When you live with an old dog

It’s after dark and drizzly, and Reggie has come in from his final bathroom break of the night: a quick pee in the front yard a few hours after our last walk. This is how it is when you live with an old dog: you measure your days and nights by the size of his bladder. When Reggie was younger, he would pace and whine when he needed to go out; nowadays, the moment he totters to his feet, awkward on arthritic legs, I hustle him toward the door. Sometimes Reggie makes it all the way outside before relieving himself; sometimes not. This is how it is when you live with an old dog.

When you live with an old dog, you gradually accept things that would have troubled you before, your patience blossoming like an unfolding flower. Another accident? No problem: you keep paper towels and a mop handy. Another bathroom break mere hours after the last one? No problem: you tell yourself it’s healthy to take a break now, not later. Another stint of patiently coaxing a dog who has never liked stairs to make his tentative way downstairs, one shaky step at a time? No problem: you learn how to meditate on each step, lavishly praising each one as if it were your dog’s first. When you live with an old dog, you gradually become accustomed to living your life moment-by-moment, the limitations of your pet’s declining body revealing the breadth and depth of your patience and priorities.

When you live with an old dog, you learn how to loosen your grip on to-do lists and time lines. Do I care about the papers left unread and the emails still unanswered? Yes, I do…but I care more about taking Reggie out when he needs it, cleaning up his accidents, and making sure he’s watered, fed, and comfortable. Do I have time to coax a dog down stairs three to four times a day when I have papers to read, classes to prep, and other work to be done? Technically, no…but practically, yes. Practically, yes, because your priorities shift when you live with an old dog, and you learn how to make time you technically don’t have. Mindful of the length of even the healthiest dog’s life, you learn to take the long view in all you do. “After he’s gone,” you silently ask yourself, “will I care whether I finished those papers, answered those emails, or checked off those other to-dos?” When you live with an old dog, you remind yourself time and again that sentient beings are always more important than tasks. After Reggie’s gone, I won’t care whether I accomplished everything on my to-do list, but I will care that I was fully present for his final days, however many they might be.

When you live with an old dog, you sometimes find yourself getting teary-eyed on an otherwise serene dog-walk because you know these days are precious: one day, you know, you’ll miss the trouble of cleaning up accidents and the glacial pace of coaxing an elderly animal down stairs, one step at a time. “How old is your dog,” strangers will sometimes ask me on our puttering neighborhood dog-walks. “Fourteen,” I’ll answer, to varying responses. Some folks marvel at how good Reggie looks for his age: slow-moving and methodical, but without noticeable graying. Other folks–the ones who have lived with old dogs of their own, I suspect–nod with a resigned expression. Fourteen, both they and I know, is ancient: a handful of friends have lost their dogs this past year, and all of those dogs were thirteen. When you live with a fourteen-year-old dog, you have no delusions: you know nothing is guaranteed, just this walk, this step. It’s the most valuable lesson any old dog–any sentient being–can offer.

40 Responses to “When you live with an old dog”

This is beautiful–I lost my 15-year old dog this September (my other one is 13)
, and I am still grateful for all the walks we had and all the time we spent together. I remember those teary-eyed walks, too. I went for a walk yesterday, though, and I felt as though he was with us–only he could keep up, and explore, and do all that he wanted to do.

I have been there twice, a Sheltie living almost 18 years, and a Wire Fox Terrier living to the age of 15.5. I miss them both terribly. It has been 16 yrs since I lost my beautiful Sheltie and 10 yrs since my darling Terrier passed away.

I wish Reggie could get outside without having to go down steps. That makes me wince. I know joint pain personally and how difficult it is to deal with stairs many days, especially cold, rainy days when inflammation is at its worst.

Blessings to Reggie, the good son. I feel like I know him through your writings over the years. Blessings to you – your love and patience are his blessings. ❤

I’ve just watched two neighbors go through this with their 15-year-old labs. I was there for the dogs and owners when the vet came out to the house to put these beloved pets down (sadly, within a week of each other). A painful time, but I felt honored to watch the nurturing, careful way of making a dear friend’s life comfortable through the final days and the final moments. That we could all be so loved, so cared for, and given such a loving send-off. Best of luck with your companion. He looks like a big teddy bear. I’m sure there is a history of memories.

Thanks, everyone. Reggie is my first dog, so this is new territory for me, but territory that so many others have traveled before me. The time Reggie and I spend together these days is so precious. It feels like a kind of meditation: an intentional, mindful practice of just enjoying now without any assumptions about the future. Just now is enough.

Beautiful dog. Beautiful post. I know so well what you are talking about. I feel sad for you because I know the pain is unreal when they leave us but somewhat I wish I could have again those last moments with my dog. During her last year when I was taking her out she could smell grass or leaves or just the earth and she could just stay there sniffing for long minutes and I was just standing next to her and thinking..this has become her outing now…she will never run again, walk fast, this is it and it was somewhat for me a great lesson.
Reggie is a magnificent dog and you are a special lady

The only way to avoid the pain of witnessing the decline of someone you love’s health is to never love at all, and none of us should be willing to pay that price. As these precious farewell moments follow one after the other, gather up your strength so that you can continue to lend some of your strength to Reggie … he is precious and beautiful, and clearly he is loved. When you live with an old dog, the love keeps expanding, moving in every direction, making way for more and more love each day.

i read your post thru tears. i lost my zeke last september and it still feels like yesterday. you are right in every single thing you say. we used to walk 4 times a day,then 2 then 1 short, then he was content to simply sit in the grass and soak up the sun. he was happy just with that. i learned about the truth of life and living and loving from that fine old gentleman.

That was a sweet read. You said it just the way it is. I have lost a few old dogs now, and I keep these points in mind all the time. I will miss your pumpkin posts about Keene since you won’t be living there.

sometimes, it isnt only the dog that is old. sometime it is people too,except dogs are easier to like most of the time. Dogs were responsible for being there all the time, providing their cuddle, and tounge, when it was clear that I was desperate and bereft, of all my own resources, then I became aware that it isn’t intelligence, beauty or smarts but HEART. Dogs bring that and only that to all the situations that they enter. So simple and we make it so complicated. I thank me dog for every day and every moment she spends with me. I am enriched by her love.

Beautiful post. Thank you for sharing. Spending time with a dog companion is special all the time, but especially in these important times when they need and appreciate your love and attention so much.

So true. I am living with my precious 3#5oz. Yorkie, Dolly. She’s 13 1/2 yo. Her bladder still makes it to her doggie door – most times. The two seizures she had are thankfully under control with meds. Her hearing is remarkable, but her eyes are straining to find her way. But the terrier in her is alive and well. She’ll still answer a ferocious bark with a charge toward the intruder, no matter the size. However, I too, have found that my heart needs to give her the special attention she deserves. All those “important” tasks can be done later. My heart needs to cherish these special days, knowing they could be very short. This is a time of special, warm, caring and loving I don’t want to miss.

Thank you for this. I have had an extremely difficult week with my 17 year old cattle dog, Bingo. We are hanging in there, together. Lately there are more anxities and tears from me, but we are hanging in there. If he finishes his meal before falling asleep, it is a victory. When he opens his eyes in the morning, it is a victory. When he stands up and wags his tail it is a victory. I am cherishing every second and every victory.

Maggie, I agree with every word. My motto these days is “Every day Reggie is still alive is a good day.” Moment by moment, we count and cherish the small blessings. It sounds like you and Bingo have learned the same lesson.

You and Maggie have expressed everything very eloquently. What a wonder our animal friends are to us! I just lost my 16 yr old Sheltie, Jasmine, and I miss her every day. Her sheltie companion Baby is 14 and slowing down with arthritis. I will try to give her the time and love she needs and know that I will be the better for it.

When you live with an old dog…count your Blessings for you have been given long years of Love. You have Memories that will bring smiles to your life .. long after an Old Dog has gone. You will not remember the care you gave
your aging friend.. but will cherish all that JOY you received. Many dogs leave us far too early…. but.. OHHHH to share 10 or 12 or more years of LOVE with any dog… is a GIFT FROM GOD … and is to be TREASURED.
I miss you Rowdy, Baron, Misty, Bear, Kelsey, Footz, Willie, Mikey, Bo,Jimmy,and Ty. Woofie and Hot Shot are here keeping me company… and I hope HE will let them stay for a while longer… for they truly make me happy and often remind me, in some sweet way… of each of You..

there is nothing harder then letting go. I payed 400.00 dollars for a vet to kill my best friend, but he did us both the honor and give him the chance to be free. There is a very big chance that you could have loved a dog as much as I loved CREED. so lucky our you.

I have lost a great big love of a guy named Cole. He was almost 16, unheard of for a St Bernard/Australian Shep mix. 130 lbs of pure love. We had lost his female buddy early from complications of a medical condition. I did rescue a Yellow Lab to keep him company since he so missed our other girl. He had arthritis and moved slowly and it was hard for him to get up. We had many an accident but like you say you take it all in stride.We went from running down the cliff at doggy beach to just staying at the top and watching the ocean. It was all good.I would not have missed a moment of it. Whenever I see a senior dog or a white snout my heart always goes out to those special pets. I stayed home from vacations and nights out with friends because I did not want to miss a moment that I knew I could never get back. Never have I once regretted it.

Thank you, everyone, for commenting. Reggie is still hanging in there, and we still putter around the block every day that the weather isn’t too brutal. I carry him up and down the stairs now, and he’s on medication (Anipryl) that helps with his accidents. We take things one step at a time, knowing every moment is precious.

I lost my best fried yesterday, his name was jasper 12 years. he die on the way to the vet, I would carry him and hold him up when he would go potty ! I find it hard to go anywhere that we went together, I suffer from a bad back 24/7 pain but I would carry him another 20 years if I could. he could no longer sleep with me because he could not climb so I would lay on the floor with him! god I miss him so bad!! its dark and empty in my house with out him! if any one would wish to see his photos I would love to share!

Thank you for your article, it strikes a chord with me. My story is that my beloved dog was euthanized on March 9th, 2014. He was 15 years and 9 months old. I spent 14 1/2 years of my life with him, just he and I, in my small apartment. I don’t know if I realized clearly then, but now I see the relationship was grounding me, giving me a life, and much joy. The work and expense were all secondary, and really were a bargain considering what I was getting in return. I greatly enjoyed and looked with anticipation to the small daily acts of love and care I would perform for Cody, and the gratitude and love I received in return. If he was not an epileptic dog I probably would have not chosen to euthanize him, but after he collapsed with severe anemia I did not want him to become disabled or to be killed by a massive seizure — a fear of mine ever since I learned he had epilepsy, shortly after I adopted him. But I still feel I should not have played God in agreeing to euthanasia. In his last six months he became arthritic and mostly deaf, forgot about his house training, which was painful for me to see. Although I didn’t truly realize it at the time as he grew old I just loved him more and more, until it was not possible to love him any more than I had. And the love, loyalty and gratitude he showed was something I now consider a priceless treasure. Now that he is gone my life can never and will never be as good.

I feel your love for Reggie, I am glad you are savoring every moment, I was so intent on keeping my cocker, Deacon, comfortable and researching new ways to keep him alive, I think I missed the most precious times. I savored the moments, but think I was in denial. He was 14, had cancer, and yet, I was sure I could keep him just one more year…..I am crying as I type this, and he died in 2006. You never get over their loss, although I have a Boxer/Wolf mix that is 11 and a St. Bernard mix that is 3……I plan to enjoy my guys at home now, and not waste precious time tilting at windmills, but just enjoying their every moment. Thank you for your post on Reggie, he is a beautiful guy…enjoy!

Wow. Great post. I found it as I was looking for a picture for my blog. Reggie is beautiful!
My blog tonight is about recognizing that my dog and best friend is “old.” I wish there was a way to stop the clock…
Best to you and Reggie.
Peace.

It’s difficult to reach a balance between what you feel about your dog and who your dog is. And often your (my, our) feelings get in the way. My dog is not my property. He is my friend that he chooses to live with and he is free to come and go. Of course the fact that I live in a rural area makes it easier for him to go next door and stay all day without worries. So all I do now is make sure that he knows he’s the man. Our guilt comes from the fact that they can’t tell us in words how they feel.